mybraintalkstome-blog - Tumblr blog

mybraintalkstome-blog · 8 years ago

Text

It’s a concept

I can barely see through the smoke cloud, I’m thirsty, and Annie’s borrowed skirt is too tight. The thought of my own furrowed brow makes me laugh, unfriendly faces always attract big crowds. The song changes to something slow, sensual, sparking a change in the dusky living room. Young loves moving closer together, friends moving further apart, and the inbetweeners melting into the shadows each one more chicken than the other to take the next step.

“What’s that smirk for?”

“Tonight is a night for would-be-couples to bloom, yet they hide in the shadows. Friendship the flavour of the night.”

He was tall, dark hair covering what appeared to be beautiful blue eyes. The earring in his right ear, chainmail, as long as the one I wore in mine. He tucked my hair away to admire the adornments in my ear. From my right ear dripped a thin strand of crystal, a diamond stud, and an upper earcuff sporting a dangling leaf. My left, a little more naked, wore nothing but a diamond star.

“Pretty, you don’t believe in pairs?”

“What’s the point in jewellery if you can’t have a little fun with it?”

When his head shook from the short giggle, I noticed that in addition to the chainmail, his ears also boasted an assortment of studs. It looked good, somewhat sexy.

He linked his hand with mine and maneuvered us over to a single seater. It took me a second to register that a stranger had just taken my hand, not usually one to engage in physical contact, when the unplanned happens it is my tendency to freeze. My face must have shown my surprise,as he quickly let go and apologised. I didn’t bother explaining, I never do. If it made him run, it wasn’t worth it anyway. But, he stayed and so did I. The night was young and he had pretty earrings, the logic made sense.

After that night, Blade and I became inseparable. He was enchanting, loving, and drew people to him like no one I had ever met. A small smile escaped my lips when I recalled the story of that night now two years past.

“It’s my concept.”

“What is?”

“The quiet, broody scene. Those who really want to talk will try and get through it and those who don’t, well they are not for me.”

“You approached me though, so what does that make me?”

“Someone more important than the protection of the concept. So don’t go hurting me Vera, not when I just let you in.”

I would never have guessed that the owner of those mysterious eyes would be so popular, have so many genuine friends, and be so open to love. Granted it was hard at first, it almost feels like sharing. He gets all my love, every affection, all my kind words. Where he is love, spreading his affection where ever we go. It was why, after our initial encounter, I didn’t think too much of his hand holding or his looks or even a brief arm on the shoulder. Showing affection was apart of who he was, so I didn’t read too much into it. It was only three months after the fateful night that I realised that he owned the same pair if of heart eyes I was sporting. We had just separated from a group of his friends, making our way along a dim light cobble walk. All of a sudden Blade sped up and disappeared around the corner. When I reached the same spot, I found him on his haunches, head bowed, sucking in deep breaths of cool air.

“I’d ask what’s wrong, but you don’t look up to answering” I said, back against the same wall, one hand adjusting my shoe. He sighed and stood up slowly, I could feel his eyes on me as he waited for me to straighten up. I decided to Vera, and shot him what I hoped was a sexy look, at the very least he might laugh. But, my smile dropped as quickly as it formed. He looked in pain and as if he was struggling with something.

“V. . .I. . .” He looked me up and down and that coupled with his pained expression had me thinking something was amiss - with me. I had already been feeling emotional after witnessing some girl try and fondle his earring (the same chainmail from the fateful night) and now I figured the outfit I’d chosen was a bad choice. It had been a fitted, wine coloured dress, length cut just above the knee, choker neckline and short sleeves. I had worn simple black sling-back heeled sandals, my toes and nails were painted a simple fresh white. I remembered thinking that even with the added height, I was still shorter than Blade, settling in just under his neck when we had hugged. But, perhaps I picked up weight, perhaps he thought I was trying too hard. Maybe the loose curls and light make-up was too much. I resigned myself to something awful, closing my eyes and resting my head against the same wall that had seemed to give him some clarity. The movement shook a tear loose, it scurried down my face before I could stop it. When the failed guards opened, Blade’s hand was on my cheek, his face inches from mine.

“V. . .I. . .” and then he kissed me. It was soft and hesitant at first, but once he felt my assent he slide all the way into it. His hand cupped my neck, the other pulled me closer to him. I heard the rain, when there wasn’t any. I smelled the dawn of new beginnings. I felt the slow melt of the ache that I hadn’t known I had. When he pulled his lips from mine, he was shaking and with tears in his eyes he told me he loved me. That’s he’d been struggling to say. That’s what I’d been waiting to hear. I rested my forehead against his and his hands with mine, trying to silently assure him that I loved him too.

Two years we’ve known each other, one and half years of dating and he is late. Today is very important to me, and he should know by now that I don’t deal well with distraction. He walked into the hall looking as breathtaking as ever. He had missed the certificate ceremony, but at least made it in time to take some commemorative pictures. I had Vera’ed the hell out of tonight, something my mom taught me.

“Vera, vera.”

When he sidled over with a bunch of purple somethings, face failing to hide how sorry he was, I had my best game face on. I needed to keep this anger, make him realise that it was not okay to be late on such a big day. That I was upset.

He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering longer than they should in public. Handing me the flowers he brought me in for a hug.

“Baby, I am sorry. I had to get the guys to drop me and you know how they can waste time.”

“Are they here too?”

“Yes, they’re waiting in the car. Thought they’d come with to the post celebrations.”

“We can’t stay for photos?”

“They’re waiting.”

We met at a lounge, somewhere Blade had introduced me to previously. A place that I liked. My friends were already there, passing as easy markers to where we needed to be. As we weaved through the crowded space, I caught several women (from college) stealing glances at Blade. He remained, as always, blissfully unaware. Following the flurry of greetings and once seated, he made sure to keep some part of his body anchored to mine. An arm over my shoulders, a finger linked with mine, a hand on my knee. Even while speaking to others, his body was always turned in my direction. When we separated, he shot several glances my way, smiling when our eyes met, happy to have my attention. At the time it was something I neither understood nor thought about particularly, to my mind it was Blade being Blade. My attention stayed on him when a beautiful blonde slithered over to our table and Blade. Hand on his shoulder, her laughter rolled across the space, her perfume tainting the light scents in the air. I never noticed the distance he was trying to put between them, I never picked up how he tried to introduce her to his friends, I never noticed the pleas he was shooting me. I saw only her hand on his shoulder and how good they looked together.

By the time we got home I had built up a good amount of anger and was sure that my eyes were the colour of the sea. I knew that it was more than just the girl in the blue dress, I knew it was residual anger from his tardiness. For allowing his friends to deprive me of my pictures. I knew that some part of me was blaming him for being so charismatic, for being such that people were just drawn to him. I knew some part of me was angry at him for being able to connect so well and so readily with anyone. I knew some part of me was angry that I had to compete with the love that the world had for him. So I let it all out. I cannot recall exactly what I said, but it started with a shout, that grew to a scream, that culminated into a pitiful broken cry. Where the loudness sliced like paper, the tears cut him deep. Once I’d finished and looked to his face, I stopped short. There was that look, the look from the “I love you” night. The slightly broken, full of pain look. And just like that night he found a wall and dropped to his haunches. I waited him out, tears still spilling from eyes, my heart screaming. For we both knew that when he rose, it would be over. By the time he stood, I had reigned it in. I wouldn’t cry, he’d say his and I’d keep what was left of mine.

“V. . .I love you.” The words struggled out of him, he looked defeated, his demeanor as if mourning a loss.

He eyes slid over me one more time, before he left, with not so much as a whisper of goodbye.

The week that followed was the kind of painful I never wanted to feel again. Thankfully, I was on a break, so I spent most of my time in bed, dodging calls and mirrors. I did the typical thing and made my way to social media, looking for fellow sufferers, a quote, a song, anything that could help me figure out what had happened. I couldn’t remember what I’d said. I had been angry and hadn’t thought it through. How was I to apologise, when I could barely recall what I was apologising for. It was during this time of reflection that I remembered that Blade was unable to rebuff people. He was so full of light and beauty that he found it hard to do anything that might hurt someone, including rebuffing the advances of a scantily clad blonde. For all I knew, he may not even have figured out she was hitting on him, would be just typical of him to put it down to being friendly. We had yet to speak, so I hadn’t ask. I knew only that I needed to apologise, somehow try and mend something that I had broken. We both deserved better and it had to start with this. During my social media crawl I noticed that Blade was tagged in a picture on the bird platform, a woman flanking either side of the sofa he was sitting on. He had that smile on his face that I loved, ears only studded, hair shaggy and eyes deep blue. To my still fragile heart he looked happy. My hurt filter didn’t let me see that the smile wasn’t in his eyes, that he looked pale and a little gaunt. So I hopped out of bed and into the shower. Did my hair and make-up and dug out a pale blue night dress. It was one of those could be cute/could be sexy ones. I snapped a picture. The right thing to do would have been to send it to him with something cheesy, call him or send him a voice note of my internal ramblings. Instead I uploaded the picture and captioned it something like “Feeling playful <kiss kiss>”. It worked, he was at my doorstep within the hour. When he walked in, I could see that he was looking for someone or signs that someone had been there. Blade and I had never had sex, so it was not for him that I would have purchased such an item. I had always been relieved with the sex thing, he wanted to wait until we had grown together and found a good natural rhythm. I wasn’t ready to invest even more of myself into a relationship where I wasn’t the only one supplying affection. Granted I would have loved being that close to him, being the one in whose arms he slept in at night, even the reason he got an erection. But, those reasons weren’t strong enough yet.

Blade looked me up and down, I felt ugly and when I saw the disappointment in his eyes, cheap.

“V. . . I love you. But, you don’t trust me. You never have.” I am not going to cry. We both knew it was nothing that he’d done, and that I would never ask him to change. His affection and readiness to love is what drew me to him in the first place. I would have given anything to be able to connect with people as easily as he did, to just know when to reach out a hand or embrace someone in a hug. There wasn’t much else to say, you couldn’t successfully build a relationship where the backbone of the foundation was missing. So I opened my arms, silently requesting that he hold me to him one more time. My heart was aching, but it felt so good to be home. As he’d never done before, he ran his hands all over my body, as if committing it to memory and when he tried to pull away I brought him back with a kiss. I poured everything I couldn’t say into that kiss, all the sorrow, anger, disappointment and past joy. When we broke apart, I watched him walk to the door, stopping only to acknowledge my whispered ‘sorry’.

That night I cried like I’d never cried before, wanting all my feelings for Blade to leave my body in those tears. Hoping that I’d never see this brokenhearted version of myself again, one at the age of 22 was more than enough.

Almost 25-year-old-me had upgraded from house parties to suave get-togethers in cosy bookstores. A local band, that had recently found some chart topping fame, was playing a 6 song set in honour of their humble beginnings and to thank their first fans. Another borrowed dress and a few shiny ear pieces reminded me of me, a necessity, given that I was trying to be social. I had wound up in a quartet, talking about some really interesting current events and doing more than just offering up the occassional ‘mmm’. If I started to feel overwhelmed, I’d move away, but at least I tried. My attention drifted to the right and my eyes stopped dead when they fell on a beautiful, shaggy haired man. My favourite ear was sporting something sparkly and in his eyes I witnessed a mischievous glint. He raised his glass of water in my direction, I smiled, and watched him scribble something onto a piece of paper he’d pulled out somewhere. Before rising, he shoved it under a dirty glass and promptly walked away. Curiosity drew me to it. A smirked danced across my face as I read what he’d left me, followed by a knowing smile, when from somewhere behind someone asked:

“What’s that smirk for?”

#it'saconcept sundaymusings it'sokaytobeterrible hearmeohhearme

0 notes